


While the Iron is Hot

by Aristide



Category: OK K.O.! Let's Be Heroes
Genre: Anal Sex, Branding, M/M, Overstimulation, Painplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23198833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristide/pseuds/Aristide
Summary: Some of his best (and worse) ideas came from watching Lord Boxman hard at work in his forge, pounding away at a shapeless slab of metal and shapping it into something more.
Relationships: Lord Boxman/Professor Venomous
Comments: 11
Kudos: 64





	While the Iron is Hot

"You still sure about this, P.V.?" 

Venomous stretched out along the face of the anvil. He enjoyed the feel of its top, still smooth even after thousands of pounds of hot metal having been worked on it over the years, against his mostly naked body. Humming to himself he ran his hands up and down the conical surface of the anvil's horn appreciatively before grabbing on to the rougher, squared section seperating it from the rest of the forged steel body. When he'd asked about the anvil, the different sections and what they were used for, Boxman had called the short length a table. 

Looking over his shoulder Venomous took stock of his partner. The shorter villian was in his full metalworking gear: a heavy waxed apron tied somewhat neatly around his waist, thick leather gloves for handling the heat treated tools, and a welding mask to protect the still organic section of his head. His lab coat, as well as Venomous' clothing, were left behind on the rather grimy looking bench on the wall farthest from the large hearth that took up most of the room. 

Even with the mask up, it was hard to pin down how Boxman felt about what they were doing just by his expression alone, and became impossible when he flicked it down over his round face.

Out of the yawning mouth of the furnace came the branding iron. The head of the iron was only an inch or so across with VM in the same stylized typeface as Voxmore's logo set into its die. It glowed a bright red in the otherwise tranquil lighting of the forge; raising over him like a miniature sun. 

Venomous took one last loving look at Boxman and the rod in his hands then exhaled heavily and turned his face to the collection of tools hung on the wall.

"Absolutely, Boxy."

Knowing it was coming didn't prepare him for the white-hot flash that followed as the flat face of the branding iron pressed into the meat of his ass. He lurched forward yowling, tears pouring from his eyes as the pain washed over him, every nerve in his body ignighting, overriding all other sensations. It hurt, Cob, it HURT and for an eternity that thought was the only one racing through his mind over and over and over...

Then the intensity begain to level off.

The world around him crept back into focus. Pain alone had left him feeling raw and sweating. His eyes stung as salty tears continued to roll down his cheeks and sticky black rings formed around his eyes from his ruined mascara. Above them the ventilation system was a soft hum compared to the harsh, shuddering breaths that escaped from his lips. His knuckles were white and his fingers sore from trying to dig them into the anvil's metal step while the skin on his knees and thighs were scrapped from being pressed into the hewn waist of the anvil. 

And then there was the smell: singed hair and burnt flesh mixed with the musty smell of molten metal and coal. 

"Cob.. That was a- _fuck_!"

The sensation of something cold against his tender skin made Venomous jolt forward again. This time however he was very much aware of the hanging edge of the anvil as it dug into his hips while his cock brushed the rough underside as he rocked away from the touch. It might have been pleasurable if the rest of his body didn't feel like a tire on fire. 

"Boxman!!" 

With a twist he turned to look at Boxman who at least had the decency to look a little guilty while he stood there chuckling sheepishly.

At some point while Venomous had been riding off the waves of pain, Boxman had ditched all of his protective gear, allowing him to wiggle the tips of his human fingers at him. A thick semi-opaque salve coated them, making them shine faintly in the amber light. 

"This will help you with the pain. Remember?" 

"Of course. I created it… just for this." He panted softly, trying to relax as Boxman's blunt fingers rubbed the cooling salve into the small wound left by the branding. In a matter of seconds the balm's numbing effects started to set in. 

"Better?"

"Much better." 

He could still feel the ache in other parts of his body but it was nothing compared to what it once was.

"Good, good… ehehe. So ready for the next step?" 

"What nex-ahmmm." He was cut off as Boxman's left hand traveled down the length of his dick, half hard after the rush of endorphins from the branding. A few delightfully rough pumps, enough to coax several beads of pre from his slit was all he was given before Boxman pulled that deceptively dexterous chicken hand away. A hiss of frustration slipped out of him at having been left there and he could almost swear he heard Boxman cackling under his breath with glee as he tugged down his pants and briefs. 

If Venomous' arms and legs didn't feel so heavy and useless he'd consider getting up to jerk himself off if the other man wasn't going to finish what he started, just to spite him, but then Boxman's clawed hand was back along with its mismatched mate to spread his ass open enough so that the cyborg's human hand could slip in and trace the rim of his anus. He moaned.

"Oh.. B-box…." 

He bowed into the flat metal top as his partner worked his fingers inside him, first one then two, in and out, leaving a cool tingling sensation behind as more of the salve was rubbed into his asshole. It worked just like it had on the branding, brisk and soothing, so that it didn't hurt for long despite the lack of a true lubricant as those thick digits plunged into him and worked him apart. 

A mild prickly sensation was all he could sense as Boxman's hand finally pulled away to be replaced by what he could only assume through the numbness was the head of Boxman's dick pushing inside him. 

Then it hit him all at once causing the lights in the room to twinkle and explode into stars.

Once the tip of his cock passed the numb ring of flesh Boxman thrusted forward, bringing all his weight down and shoving the majority of his cock into Venomous' body. Sparks of pleasure burned him from within as Boxman pulled back slowly letting the thick girth of his dick drag along his sensitive insides before striking back down. Once the cyborg had found his rhythm every sharp hit landed hard on his prostate with dizzying accuracy and was followed up with a slow withdrawl much like the well timed swings used to temper steel before it could cool. 

"Box. Hhaarder B-box. I, Boxy... _Boxman_!"

His hands scrabbled over the sleek surface of the horn when he came, closing around it as if to choke the thing. Cum splattered in thick streams on the metal waist and legs of the anvil and dripped down to pool on the platform it was bolted to. At his back, Boxman was rasping for air above him with every motion of his hips, closer then before thanks to the contractions from Venomous' orgasm but not quite there himself. 

The sounds that left his mouth as Boxman continued to work him came out as pure, unintelligible, simpering *garbage*. A jumble of vowels and primitive grunts slipping pass his bitten lips. All he could do was cling helplessly to the sturdy metal weight with his heavy limbs until, slamming his hands down to grip the ledge of the anvil on both sides of him, Boxman came too.

For a while they stayed there together to bask in the afterglow and the warmth of the hearth so close by. While Venomous used his right arm as a head rest, his left was free to hold on to Boxman's claw. He rubbed his thumb over the ridged scutes and smaller scales while Boxman pressed occational wheezy kisses to his shoulders and back. Then, just as the weight on his lower back and the unforgiving edge of hard metal pressing into his stomach were starting to bother him, Boxman pulled away.

Hurriedly the cyborg pulled his slacks back up then posed with his hands on his hips and a wide grin. He oozed confidence and composure.. or he would have if more then a quarter of his shirt had been tucked back in and the clips of his suspenders weren't left to drag along the floor behind him, or if his hair wasn't plastered to the side of his head and a faint blush hadn't blossomed across those puffy cheeks. 

Instead of a master roboticist, metalworker, and accomplished villian, he looked like a teen having stumbled out of the closet after a game of "seven minuets in heaven" for the first time. If Boxman looked such a mess, he could only imagine just how bad he looked in return with his red, watery eyes and smudged makeup.

Venomous couldn't keep from returning the grin with a dreamy little smile of his own. 

"It really came out great, you know. Clean imprint so you don't have to worry about it blistering." Boxman chatted as he started to wipe down the insides of Venomous' thighs. The shorter man was very much an artist who took pride in his skill, never resisting the chance to humble-brag. "I still think we should have started out with something a teeny-tiny bit less extreme. Like a tattoo or maybe a soldering iron but, heh, with that stuff you made? At least you won't be in any pain while you heal!" 

Boxman looked down at the dirty rag in his hand and chucked it into the furnace. The fire inside roared as it consumed the cloth quickly. 

"I have to hand it to you, Boxy. You really do know how to work this thing." Venomous ran a finger up the body of the horn in a spiral patter then poked the tip of it fondly. With the right amount of planning it would make for an interesting toy. That would have to wait for some other time though. 

With a lazy flick he shoved his hand out at Boxman. 

"Now, help me get off."

He should have expected the childish snickering he got in response.


End file.
